Family Values
by Alfisti
Summary: Job, girl or family? Two out of three ain't bad. Short one-shot, follows on directly from "And the Adventure Continues".


**FAMILY VALUES**

_A Gunslinger Girl fanfiction, based on works by Yu Aida._

* * *

Peeling back one charcoal skivvy cuff, Monty glanced at her wristwatch as the red small seconds hand completed another lap of its dial. Pulling a tight smile she turned back to where, behind the reception counter, a ginger desk clerk all too slowly finished running her card: if they intended on catching the night ferry to Denmark, she and her partner would need to get moving.

"Any other incidentals?"

Monty looked back at the young woman. "Not beyond those already listed."

"Alright, if you could just sign here..." invoice and pen clacked down on marble so the appropriate mark could be scribbled, "...thank you. Here is your copy and card back and you're good to go. Have a lovely day."

Nodding quick thanks, Monty slipped the plastic rectangle into her wallet, which was paired with the printout before in turn being placed inside one breast of a white wool overcoat. Picking up the soft duffle bag which resided at her feet, she headed for the exit, heels of matching white leather boots sinking into thick pile carpet with each step. After near a month of enforced convalescence whilst her handler mended from their Russian misadventure it would be good to get back on the road, even if only to chase another Rome-directed diversion.

Outside remained cloudy and grey, casting the street and stone walls in soft, muted tones, pavements glistening after a light morning drizzle. No need for sunglasses here and, adjusting in place a white engineer's cap atop auburn hair, the slender girl stepped through double hinged doors into Edinburgh's late-winter cold.

Beyond the building's protection a stiff breeze whipped about her, setting the coat's heavy fabric swaying, and whistling over exposed ears. Scanning the scene, the girl quickly found her handler, stood next to their half-packed Audi estate, seemingly now however in conversation with another, elder, man, and she hurried down the front steps.

Detouring to dump her bag on the car's rear seat, she took an extra moment to study the stranger: probably in his late sixties or early seventies, salt and pepper hair, now more salt and less pepper, topped by a flat cap; wearing a battered blue nylon bomber jacket over shirt and tie; his arms crossed to lean back against the boot of a silver Volvo saloon. In the space between both vehicles conversation had ground to a standstill, and as she closed the door, moving to join the two men, Monty felt eyes boring into her.

Halting close beside her partner, the girl nodded at his current companion, then glanced up. "The room's dealt with, but we might want to get moving shortly."

Opposite however, the other man had also pinned the spy in his gaze, eyebrows slightly raised. "And whom might this be Jethro?"

_So, someone from the old-days then._

There was a pause, and she felt her handler take a deep breath. "This is Monty. Monty, this is Keith Blacker... my father."

_Oh…_

It took an imperceptible heartbeat to re-calibrate but, recovering quickly, Monty held out her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you Keith, and what brings you to Edinburgh?"

_Divert his attention._

Reciprocating her gesture, the elder Blacker glanced again at his son. "As I was just telling my absent offspring here, I'm giving a series of guest lectures at the University's school of economics, so they moved me north for the week."

"Dad is one of the better known academics in the field..."

"...semi-retired now though, which means when people _do_ drag me back into active service they at least have the decency to accommodate me somewhere nice," he gestured to the fratello's hotel, "though I was under the impression they did not have twin-share suites here."

Another pause, and Monty was just starting to open her mouth when Jethro cut across her. "They don't, but the sofa folds out."

"Does it now? A sofa bed would seem a tad low rent considering the going room rate."

"I see you didn't bring Mother with you."

That received a half smile. "No: one thing about retirement, even semi-retirement, is that you have to take the opportunities to get out of one-another's pockets as they arise, or otherwise risk divorce. We've done alright for the last forty years, I see no reason to break the run now by laying about the house too much... and what brings you two here, with each other?"

The last was directed at Monty.

"Business. We work together, professionally."

"Is that so?" Now the elder man gave her partner a querying look. "She seems a little young to be taking on a professional position, barely out of high school... if that."

"It's work experience, helping her decide on a career path."

"So she _is_ still in school…"

The younger Blacker managed to squeeze out a "no" before his father's tone turned hard and interrogative.

"…work experience to a shared hotel room? Overnight? Exactly what sort of 'career path' would that be helping her into then Jethro?"

"We couldn't afford two."

"My son cannot afford two separate rooms, but he _can_ afford a top of the range Audi."

As the back and forth continued above her head, Monty grimaced internally: her partner was drowning, being taken apart with embarrassing ease at his own game.

"Just how much are you paying her?"

"I'm not paying her anything, that's why it's called work _experience_."

"Well then _someone_ is dressing her expensively, perhaps the sort of person who would rather spend his money on _toys_ over, say, hotel rooms… and for your information_, _work experience, as a generalisation, occurs outside school hours: which don't stretch so far as to allow a weeknight away. Not for those seeking a university education and career at least."

Grasping at her handler's arm to catch his attention, Monty glanced again pointedly at her watch as conversation once more evaporated, and she turned the flat gaze on their current companion.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we really do need to get moving."

Silence, both men studying the girl between them, until the elder half cleared his throat. "You obviously have somewhere more important to be, in which case I need to be getting up to the university as well."

With that he started to step away toward his Volvo's driver door, before pausing to turn back.

"I don't know exactly what path you have taken in life to reach this point _Jethro Blacker_, but you had best sort it out... and you, young lady, should be taking a good hard look to decide if this is really what you want: a pretty face and expensive trinkets do not last forever." There was a pause, and his attention turned back to the pair's male half. "In the interest of our collective sanity I do not intend to go informing your mother about this, but for God sakes make my life easier and call her once in awhile would you? And at least _pretend_ to be alright."

Uttering those final words he was gone, door shutting with a heavy clonk before the Volvo's engine whirred and caught into a diesel rattle. Edging away, the saloon rolled off down the street, disappearing around its long cobbled curve. As it departed, Monty's partner drew her against himself, arms crossed over her as he began to rock them both gently side to side, staring unseeing toward where that silver vehicle had vanished from sight.

Reaching up, she wrapped a slender hand around one of his. "Well that was... awkward."

The rocking stopped, and she felt her partner draw a deep breath, letting it out in a slow, juddering sigh, before bending down to place his head atop hers. "That's ok luv, it was just bad luck we happened to cross paths. Frankly this is the first time we've talked in years... I don't think I'm even on my folks' Christmas card list anymore."

"Is that bad?"

Stepping back, Jethro turned his girl around to face him, and knelt down to embrace her again.

"No, not right now."

Still held tight, Monty lifted her wrist around her partner's back to look again at her watch. "You know, I was not lying when I said we needed make a move shortly: otherwise we really _will_ miss the Esbjerg boat."

Releasing her, the man stood back to throw her a half grin. "Well then, we'd best crack on hadn't we?"


End file.
